


Their Lonely Betters

by draculard



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Ostracization, Samakro sticks up for Thrawn yet again, workplace politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: On his way to (finally) grab a bite to eat after a long shift, Samakro finds Thrawn listening at the galley door.
Relationships: Samakro | Ufsa'mak'ro & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Their Lonely Betters

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem by W.H. Auden. Basically I just love how Mid Captain "I hate Thrawn more than anything" Samakro constantly finds himself sticking up for Thrawn around the other officers, so....

The deck of the _Springhawk_ was humming slightly as they took another quick jump into hyperspace, but Samakro barely noticed the vibrations beneath his feet. His mind was centered on one thing and one thing only: his stomach. Like many higher-ranking officers, he avoided eating entirely during his shifts, and today he’d been delayed by more than an hour on his way to the officer’s mess, so he felt rather like his stomach was devouring itself at the moment.

He could smell the galley’s signature sweet-and-sour pella noodles before he even entered the passageway — and once he turned the corner, he only made it another few meters before he stopped. The officer’s mess was almost within reach; he could smell practically everything available on the buffet; he could hear the officers inside, their voices raised as they talked over each other, chatting and telling stories, making fun of each other, telling jokes, laughing. He could pick out individual voices from the chatter, identifying bridge officers from their tone or modulation.

And standing down the hall from Samakro, hidden from sight to everyone inside the officer’s mess, was Senior Captain Thrawn.

He stood with his back to the wall and his head angled sideways, eyes distant as he listened to the officers — _Samakro’s_ officers, until recently — wind down after a long day. He didn’t seem to notice Samakro watching him; he didn’t turn to look his way. For a long moment, they stood there, Samakro at one end of the hallway with his eyes on Thrawn and Thrawn at the other end, listening surreptitiously to the chatter inside the galley.

Listening but not entering, Samakro thought, noting the wistful expression on Thrawn’s face. Had Thrawn eaten in the mess with the rest of his men before the _Outbound Flight_ incident occurred? Perhaps there had once been a time when he could walk into a room without the officers going silent, watching his every move with beady eyes. But now, Samakro knew, this was the best Thrawn could hope for — a moment of privacy to listen at the entrance, appreciating the sounds of good cheer and camaraderie from the other side of the door.

Samakro hesitated, then cleared his throat. He made sure his next few steps were loud enough to penetrate Thrawn’s concentration. By the time he reached the entrance, the sadness on Thrawn’s face had disappeared, replaced by the studiously neutral expression he always wore on the bridge.

“Going in, Senior Captain?” asked Samakro stiffly.

Thrawn didn’t answer. He studied Samakro’s face, perhaps unable to interpret his tone, perhaps deciding it was safer to say nothing until he could figure it out.

“Might I join you, sir?” Samakro said. He gestured to the open door — to an empty table big enough for three or four people on the aft side of the room. He didn’t bother to offer an excuse; to say he only wanted to discuss business or go over strategy would cheapen the invitation, and if Thrawn needed an excuse like that anyway in order to join him … well, that was just too bad. He met Thrawn’s eyes, silently pleading with him to say yes, or no, or anything at all, so they could get this over with and go about their day.

“Join you, Mid Captain?” Thrawn repeated, eyes shifting to the empty table. A line appeared between his eyebrows. His voice was soft.

“Well, if the idea offends you so much…” said Samakro. Thrawn’s eyebrows lifted at that; he didn’t seem to notice he was being manipulated.

“Of course not,” he said. A pained expression crossed his face, almost too quickly for Samakro to notice it, and then it was wiped away. He looked at the packed galley and seemed to steel himself, shoulders squaring, chest expanding as he took a deep breath.

Finally, he turned back to Samakro, lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Of course not, Mid Captain,” he said. “Lead the way.”


End file.
